1974 - So What Happens to Me by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page A

could cut you by just looking at you. He’ll want to know everything there is to know about you. What you are doing here. Who you are. Why Bernie hasn’t put you on the pay roll. Have a story ready or we’ll be sunk. Do you understand?”
    “No.” I stared at her. “I don’t understand and I don’t like any of it. If you. . .”
    The sound of a car pulling up outside my cabin made both of us turn fast to the window.
    “He’s here . . . Wes Jackson!” Pam’s face was whiter than a fresh fall of snow. “He mustn’t find me here.” She looked around wildly, then darted into the bathroom and closed the door.
    That left me standing there on my own.
     
     

THREE
     
    W es Jackson stood in the doorway of my cabin like an undersized King Kong, but not all that undersized. He was around 6 ft. 5 ins., massively built and around thirty-two or three years of age. He had a turnip-shaped head that sat on his vast shoulders without suggesting he had any neck. His small nose, his small mouth and his small eyes struggled to survive in a sea of pink-white fat. His jet-black hair was close cropped. He wore heavy black shell glasses that slightly magnified his sea-green eyes. He was immaculately dressed in a blue blazer with some fancy badge on the pocket, white linen slacks and some club tie pinned to a white shirt with a large gold tie pin.
    “Mr. Crane?”
    The tiny mouth went through the motions of a smile: the sea-green eyes, like points of ice picks dipped in green paint, moved over me.
    I knew at once this man was a natural born sonofabitch and I would have to handle him with care.
    “That’s correct,” I said and waited.
    He moved his bulk into the cabin and closed the door.
    “I’m Wesley Jackson. I take care of Mr. Essex’s affairs.”
    I nearly said that must be nice for him, but instead I said.
    “Is that right?”
    “That’s right Mr. Crane. Mrs. Essex asked me to come here and thank you for finding her horse.”
    “How is she?”
    He edged further into the room and slowly settled himself in a lounging chair. It creaked under his weight.
    “She had quite a fall, but you know about that.” He shook his turnip head, and his fat face expressed sorrow. “Well, she could be worse. Slight concussion, but nothing really serious.”
    “Fine. When I saw her come down I thought she had broken her back.”
    He winced.
    “Happily no.”
    He crossed one enormous leg over the other and seeing that he was making himself comfortable, I took a chair opposite him.
    “It was very thoughtful of you, Mr. Crane, to go searching for her horse,” he went on. “No one seemed to have thought of it. Her horse is important to her.”
    I let that one drift and waited.
    “Mrs. Essex is appreciative.”
    I let that one drift too.
    He studied his beautifully manicured finger nails, then shot me a sudden hard look.
    “You work here, Mr. Crane?”
    Here it comes, I thought. This fat fink isn’t wasting time on me.
    “You could say that.”
    He nodded.
    “Yes.” A pause. “You don’t appear on our payroll, Mr. Crane, yet you tell me you are working for us.”
    I put a blank look on my face.
    “I didn’t say that, Mr. Jackson. I’m working for Colonel Olson.”
    He nibbled at his thumbnail while he stared at me.
    “Colonel Olson engaged you?”
    “Maybe I’d better explain.” I gave him my frank expression with a slight apologetic smile. It didn’t seem to make any impact on him but I couldn’t imagine anything making an impact on him. “Colonel Olson and I served together in Saigon. He flew a bomber. I kept him flying.” I was speaking very casually. “I heard he was working for Mr. Essex and as I was looking for something to do and as he and I got along fine together I wrote, asking him if he could get me a job here. He wrote back and said there was nothing at the moment but if I were free, how would I like to come here and help out on the runway. He said he could give me a cabin and food, but there would be no